


Extreme Denial

by poppyholdingseal



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, F/M, Written in 2016 on tumblr and now reposted, so other mingzan fans can find it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28028532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poppyholdingseal/pseuds/poppyholdingseal
Summary: Ming-hua is more interested in people than paintings, not that she'll ever admit that to the cute security guard.Originally posted on tumblr in 2016 and reposted here so other mingzan fans (we are a small but mighty group) can find it!
Relationships: Ghazan/Ming-Hua (Avatar)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Extreme Denial

**Author's Note:**

> This was the short fic that made me resume fic writing again... and then I paused for another 4 years LOL. 2020 me is a little embarrassed by 2016 me buuuut we do what we do for mingzan. 
> 
> Also don't believe any of the things Zaheer says because I made up all the "history" on the spot.

“Imagine how long he had to sit there,” P’Li said. “I almost feel sorry for him.”

“What’s a few hours of discomfort to him if his reward is an advantageous marriage?” Zaheer said. “His country depends on him to make an alliance. Imagine the trade that will flourish between Sweden and Norway.”

They stood in front of a tall painting in what was once a Swedish royal palace. In the floor to ceiling painting, a tall pale lady regarded a portrait of her soon-to-be-husband with a faint, tolerating smile. Her court surrounded her, huddled in group, smiling and fawning over the face of their future king.

“What does Sweden trade?” P’Li asked.

“Hmm,” Zaheer’s brow furrowed. “I believe the confectionary trade was flourishing around the 1900’s.”

Ming-Hua tilted her head. “So he’s just sitting there thinking about all the cinnamon rolls he’ll get?”

Zaheer chuckled, “Not quite. This isn’t the first negotiation between Sweden and Norway. They have a history of mutual reliance for other exports. I believe our guide mentioned the next room contained more detail.”

“Well then,” P’Li said, and smiled. She took Zaheer’s arm and they walked to the next room, while Ming-Hua continued her bewildered appraisal.

She never really got arranged marriages. Normal every day relationships were already a pain in the ass. She could be happy for P’Li and Zaheer, and she could tag along on their tour of Stockholm –along for the occasional spats, usually over where to eat: P’Li didn’t like overpriced food, but she did eventually want to have dinner, while Zaheer flatly refused pricey food (“These are corporations exercising oligopolistic advantage” – “Zaheer this is the eighth place we’ve looked at”).

The king-to-be had a dusty white wig and a pudgy face. His weak jaw didn’t do anything to suggest kingliness. Ming-Hua wouldn’t hand over half her country’s cinnamon roll trade to him.

And the court looked pretty bored with the new king. Half the courtiers had turned away and were gossiping, while the other half were – children? No, babies. She furrowed her brow at the half-naked babies on the painted court floor. All in all it was a pretty confusing AND pretty boring painting.

She never got art. If Korra was here they’d probably had abandoned P’Li and Zaheer by now and played ultimate in the palace garden maze.

Ming-Hua took her phone out and took a selfie with the painting. She circled the queen’s face and drew an arrow to the king and captioned it “not happy w/ future baby daddy.”

She snapped it to Korra.

“Hey there,” someone said.

She yelped and looked at the security guard who suddenly appeared at the door, arms crossed. He was pretty hot – tall and built and she normally preferred clean shaven men but his beard made him look manlier – but he still had a police baton.

“Please don’t take pictures of the masterpieces,” he said.

“Sorry,” Ming-Hua said, because she’d rather apologize to someone who was nearly twice her size and had the authority to throw her out. “Taking a selfie.” 

Security Guard said “I know,” and winked.

She stared. He held eye contact, and when she dropped it and looked down, she saw broad shoulders and a smirk. She jerked her eyes back up and he was still smirking.

Damn rugged men with beards.

“Don’t you have security guard things to do?” Ming-Hua said, waving her arms in a general go-away-please way. “Patrol? Look scary?”

“Well I got called to the west wing. Someone has to make sure no one steals the royal portraits.”

“Who would steal that?”

“Hey, that was the beloved king and queen you know. I might have to arrest you for treason against her Majesty’s house.”

Ming-Hua snorted. “Suit yourself. Getting paid to catch everyone who doesn’t like the Queen’s grandma.” That was rude even for her. She cringed.

Attractive men made her prickly, like she had to add extra cannons to her emotional defenses so they wouldn’t affect her.

The guard shrugged but grinned. He had a nice jawline. Shit. “It’s a good gig.”

Ming-Hua looked at the painting to avoid looking at him. “She couldn’t pick a more interesting relative?”

“Hmm?”

“Anyone who has nothing better to do than stand in one place for hours getting painted can’t be that interesting.”

“The king should have just taken a selfie,” the guard said with absolute seriousness. Ming-Hua kept her eyes on the painting and ignored that. But she could sense that he’d walked over next to her to ‘get a closer look at the painting.’

“And then these guys,” she pointed at the courtiers, “wouldn’t be fawning over him like he’s Chris Pine. No painter to cover up the Highness’s acne scars.”

“Hey, let the Queen think she’s got a good catch.” He pointed at the top right corner. He was a lot taller than her, about a foot if she guessed. “But anyway the guy with the jewel plunger on his head is her lover anyway, so she doesn’t have it too bad.”

Ming-Hua forced herself to not look at his (well-built) arm and gazed past it at the corner. “So the court is gossiping about the love triangle between them and the plunger guy.”

The guard laughed. “I just made that up. It gets boring without company around here,” and grinned at her.

She glanced at him for a second (a second too long, she saw dark green eyes and a strong nose over plush lips and shit that was way too much detail to notice in one second). Her instinct to bail reared. “Yeah I think my friends went ahead so I’m gonna-“

“Found her!” P’Li took her arm and smiled. “You liked the cinnamon roll queen huh?” And then P’Li noticed the security guard she was trying to avoid.

“Hey Ghazan, long time no see.” She pulled the security guard in for a hug and Ming-Hua gaped. “Did you get Zaheer’s text? I thought we were meeting at the fountain after your shift.”

She grinned widely at Ming-Hua (who quickly rearranged her features into something more stonefaced and less shocked) “Ming-Hua, this is Ghazan. He’s the friend Zaheer asked to show us around Stockholm after.”

Oh shit. She was going to have to fake sick or something.

Hot Security- Ghazan- smiled and offered a handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

She shook his hand (warm, soft around the calluses) and snatched it back as soon as she could. “Yeah.” The universe must hate her.

“Show us around,” P’Li said, “I’m think Zaheer wants an insider perspective on this place.”

“Maybe after my shift ends. I can’t take you to the closed off areas if that’s what he wants,” Ghazan laughed. “He probably knows more about this place than all the tour guides here anyway.”

“Tell me about it,” P’Li said. “He brought this tome on Swedish aristocracy from 1800 to 1900. Was reading it on the plane here. Speaking of which, he’s just up ahead. We’ll catch up after?” P’Li said, noticing Ming-Hua was fidgeting and edging her way out of the room.

Ming-Hua tried to look in Ghazan’s general direction without looking at him, “see ya,” and walked out of the room as coolly as possible.

“Sure. Enjoy your visit,” Ghazan called after her. P’Li lingered to say something, and then she caught up to Ming-hua in the other room.

“Do we have to see his ugly mug later?” Ming-Hua hissed.

“Well yes, but also no,” P’Li said a little too optimistically.

“What?”

“You can always call him too when you don’t see him. Want his number?”

“I want to catch rabies before I want his number.”

“Take it anyway for emergencies. He’s gonna be around for the next few days.”

“That’s our entire trip.”

“Yep.”

**Author's Note:**

> The painting is real at Drottningholm Castle and you can see it here: https://images.app.goo.gl/n4KqnX2fQwT4fedi7 (not my travel blog, it's just the only photo I could find without knowing the painting's name)
> 
> Originally for minghuaghazan's bday. Inspired by the tumblr post “I’m at a museum right now and I’m really bored so I was taking a selfie and this rly hot guard said “please do not take pictures of the artwork” and I apologized and explained I was only taking a selfie and he goes “I know” and winked”


End file.
